Thirteen Notes
by Evanna Adams
Summary: Castiel leaves a note for Dean and it ensues a habit the two will fall in love with. Written for peevesstolemysweettroll on tumblr. My awesome friend. She's the one who gave me this idea. By the way, all poems belong to Christopher Poindexter and it's a quite open ended story because the episodes are still coming but I've ended it already.
1. Chapter 1

It all started when Castiel woke up early and Dean was still asleep, the musty motel smell surrounding them. The smell somehow settled like dust covering the roof of his mouth and made him comfortable all day but Dean had taught him the beauty of brushes. He had even gotten Castiel a toothbrush which resided with Dean's toothbrush in his duffel. It was pink and the base was a dragon.

Dean had laughed hysterically when he had handed Castiel the brush but the hilarity of the situation had flown past Castiel. Instead, he had leaned in and kissed the laughter right off of Dean's face. Dean had responded in kind, though surprised. He said Castiel never ceased to surprise him. Castiel loved that he could surprise Dean. Make those beautiful green eyes crinkle with laughter.

Dean was passionate. Castiel loved the way Dean could love. It was complete. When Dean looked Castiel in the eye, it was as if the whole world was right in front of him. As if all of Dean's prayers had been answered. It made Castiel want to hold Dean and sob, but he never did that. He kissed him if Sam wasn't there and if Sam was present, Castiel would give Dean the rendition of the same look. It made Dean's breath hitch.

Castiel loved the fact that even though his knees went jelly in front of Dean, he had the same effect on Dean as well. The way his eyes fluttered, his breath went uneven and he got that look of wonderment on his face. Castiel was sure, if not the same, he definitely mirrored it himself.

Castiel looked at the sleeping figure of Dean, his body curled towards Castiel. He ran a hand through his hair and kissed his forehead. Castiel stole a glance of the other bed, Sam was still asleep. They hadn't told Sam of their relationship. Dean found it uncomfortable, not that he was intimidated by his sexuality. It was far from that. It had just been five days since Castiel had returned from Purgatory. Dean had pulled him towards himself the second they had been alone. Between murmured confessions and apologies, he had kissed Castiel deeply and roughly. The night had passed in a haze of clothes and skin against skin. The next few nights had been slower, each of them wishing to remember, the quiet moans and the silent murmuring, not wishing to wake Sam up. Dean feared that Sam would feel left out, that either he'd go running back to Amelia or blame Dean.

Placing another kiss on Dean's forehead and 'mojo'-ing their clothes back on, Castiel swung his feet off the bed and headed towards the side table. He picked out his toothbrush, borrowed Dean's toothpaste and went into the bathroom to brush. Brushing his teeth, he thought he'd go find breakfast and scrounge around for information of any potential hunt.

He knew that Dean still feared Castiel would leave him. Deciding to leave a message, Castiel walked to sit at the edge of Dean's bed and picked up his phone. He had learnt to operate a phone with keys but this phone just had a screen. Was something wrong with it? No, couldn't be. He had seen Dean use it countless times. He turned it around in his hand. He found a button at the top. He clicked it hard, a screen appeared. It read, 'Slide to Unlock'. It took a few tries and once Castiel almost threw it, but he managed to get it open. It asked for a password. Frustrated, Castiel put the phone down. He was going to go old style on this one.

He unzipped Sam's duffel and fished through it to find a notepad and a pen. Racking his brains, he found perfect words at the top of his mind. Recently Sam had been drawn into poetry by a young poet, Christopher Poindexter. He spouted quotes wherever he could fit them. Curious, Castiel had read a couple of his poems and had ended up reading all of them. Being an angel had its perks, he could remember all the poems word for word.

He smiled softly as he penned it down.

* * *

Dean woke up groggily to the sound of Sam calling him to wake up.

"Bitch, just shower and then wake me up!" Dean cried out, tossing in the bed away from Sam's voice.

"Jerk," Sam called, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door.

Grumbling, Dean woke up. He opened his eyes and looked all around his bed. He sat up and looked around. Castiel was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Sam! Where's Cas?" Dean asked, padding over to the door of the bathroom.

"I don't know! He was gone before I woke up," Sam told him, shouting over the sound of the water gushing. A beat later he added, more gently, "He'll come back, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah I know," Dean said, flippantly.

He shook a little on the balls of his feet and took a few calming breaths. Castiel wouldn't leave now. He had promised the night before, in bed. Dean thought he'd play with his phone for the time being.

Settling on the bed against a butt load of pillows, Dean settled between them and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. The plastic back cover felt a little out of place. He pulled it off to put it back again, securely but a folded piece of paper fell into his lap.

Curious, Dean picked it up and unfolded it. There, in Castiel's beautiful font, were the words:

"_I have always_

_Been the sky_

_And you the_

_Sea, yet_

_It still feels_

_Like grace,_

_When you lay_

_Under me."_

_I will be back. _

_-Cas._


	2. Chapter 2

Dean heaved a sigh of relief as he laid down his now-showered self onto the bed. His muscles ached with exhaustion. The rugaru had been hard to catch up to. His was a pretty clear M.O. but still it took a couple of days for Sam to actually track him down and then Dean pinned him down and Castiel burnt him. Having an angel on the case, made it ten times easier.

The door opened and Castiel entered. He had stayed back to clean up the mess and let Dean and Sam go back. Dean had wanted to kiss him there and then but he took pity on Sam's eyes. Besides, Sam still didn't know anything about them.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, smiling softly at the hunter, sprawled on the bed.

Dean gave him a lazy smile and held out his arms, invitingly. Castiel shut the door behind him and walked to Dean.

"Hey, Cas," Dean whispered as Castiel sank down on the bed beside him and lowered himself into Dean's arms.

Dean closed his arms around Castiel's shoulders and one of Castiel's hands went down under Dean's head to pull him up. They kissed, slow and languid, happy after a hunt well done.

"I'm saving people, Dean," Castiel breathed against Dean's lips.

"Yes, you are," Dean chuckled, ruffling Castiel's hair.

Castiel grinned at Dean, a habit he had picked from Dean himself. His grin almost mirrored Dean's. Castiels' emotions and expressions were all influenced by Deans'. Yet there was such individuality in everything Castiel did… It was all just so… _Castiel_.

The bolt on the bathroom door moved and Castiel teleported away to a chair. Dean missed the warmth and the blue eyes, instantly. He cursed lightly under his breath and turned away to pout at the window.

Sam ran a hand through his wet hair, frowning at Dean.

"What's with him?" Sam asked Castiel.

Castiel shrugged, another habit picked up from Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked to the door.

"I'm going to get dinner, guys. Don't burn the house down," Sam said, before shutting the door behind him.

Dean sighed as he felt Castiel's arms go around his waist, just moments later. Dean twisted in Castiel's arms to look at him.

"Who knew the angel of the Lord was a cuddle-r!" Dean murmured, smilingly.

The smile on Castiel's face faded to be replaced by a frown. He looked away from Dean.

"I'm hardly an angel, Dean," Castiel said, his words barely audible.

Dean felt the guilt settle in. He cupped Castiel's face and made him meet his eyes. He leaned into to kiss Castiel, soft and apologetic. Castiel melted against him, falling into place with him like a puzzle piece.

"It's okay," Castiel murmured, running a hand down Dean's spine.

"I'm such a dick, Cas," Dean said, regretfully, closing his eyes and nuzzling against Castiel's chest.

"No, you're not."

"Sorry."

"Shut up."

Dean chuckled slightly. He looked up at Castiel.

"Wanna do the dirty?" Dean asked, smirking.

Castiel rolled his eyes.

"You're exhausted, sleep," he ordered.

"Aw, man! I'm not sleepy," Dean said, ending with a huge yawn.

Castiel started to laugh, little tremors running through his body. Dean joined in a moment later. The laughter was free and unrestrained. The kind that made your jaw and stomach hurt. It had been so long. Way too long.

Wiping the tears at the edges of his eyes, Dean looked at Castiel, grinning, finally sobering up. Castiel smiled and then moved quickly to kiss Dean's forehead, as if Dean would swat him away otherwise. Dean's eyes fluttered close. Castiel kissed each eyelid and then the tip of Dean's nose. Finally, he laid a chaste kiss upon Dean's lips.

"Sleep, Dean," he said, gently running a hand through Dean's hair.

* * *

When Sam returned with dinner, Dean was fast asleep and Castiel was sitting on a chair, reading a magazine, his feet propped on Dean's bed.

* * *

'_Let's waste the day together,_

_Just you and me.'_

Dean watched as Castiel smiled conspiratorially at the piece of paper in his hand, under the table.

Being the first one to sleep, Dean was also the first one to rise. Even though Dean had returned the sentiment of Castiel's note the same night, he wanted to repeat the feat. He had grabbed a piece of paper from Sam's notepad and his pen, hidden from Castiel's eyes. Unable to think of something as eloquent as Castiel, he had written what he actually wanted to say. His scrawl was hurried and small, but legible.A town later, as they were heading out to the diner, Dean slipped the piece of paper into Castiel's trench coat, 'accidentally' bumping into his shoulder.

"Dean, what's your order?" Sam asked, looking at his menu, oblivious.

"Cheeseburger with a side of fries, followed by-" Dean started, grinning.

"Apple pie," Castiel continued, smiling at Dean.

Dean smiled back.

Sam sighed. "Seriously, Dean? It's pretty early for something that greasy."

Dean gave him a look.

"Okay, okay. Just trying to help," Sam said, holding up his arms in surrender.

* * *

When Dean pulled out his wallet to pay for breakfast, he found a piece of parchment in there. Even before he had seen it, he knew who it was from. He smiled to himself, ducking his face towards the wallet to avoid Sam's confused looks. Pulling out a couple of bills, he shoved the parchment into his coat pocket and led the way outside.

Castiel followed him, smirking.

Sam was befuddled by the two these days. Their secretive smiles and touches, and they thought Sam couldn't see it. He knew what was going on. At least he had an inkling, especially after the night he had woken up accidentally and immediately froze up to the sounds of moans and groans. For a second he thought Castiel and Dean were being tortured but then he heard… _other_ stuff coming from Dean's mouth which made him want to brain bleach himself. He had to stay still through the whole thing and be tortured by it for what seemed like two hours before sleep claimed him. Dean had wondered aloud why the moose was irritable that day and Sam had just thrown his coffee cup and left for the library.

Dean had ignored Sam for the rest of the week and talked to him only through Castiel, except for during the hunt.

"Sammy, I will drive off if you keep standing there," Dean shouted to Sam over the radio, shaking him out of his reverie.

Sam huffed out, exasperatedly and settled down in the car.

* * *

"_There is no_

_Better way_

_To drain the_

_Stamina contained_

_Inside there_

_Earthly bodies,_

_Then to love_

_Until there is_

_No loving left_

_To be done."_

_What about Sam?_

_-Cas_

Dean blanched at the words. His breath came in gasps as he read and re-read the parchment in his hands, imagining it in Castiel's voice and imagining his beautiful face. The blue eyes. Poetry had never been effective until Castiel.

He shook himself, looking around the empty room, with Sam showering and Castiel out for a newspaper and information run. Taking out Sam's laptop, he googled Christopher Poindexter.

* * *

"_We loved and we loved_

_And we loved each other,_

_Over and over and over,_

_Until time could no longer_

_Spend its blood on us."_

_Will take care of Sammy. He has a date with the library. _

_-Dean_

_P.S.: Can't wait to love you more. _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: The length of the chapters will really vary. Some chapters are 400 words long. :B**

**Thanks for all the reviews and follows. :)**

* * *

The next morning, Dean arose sated and happy, with Castiel still in his arms. He thought maybe he had woken up early but turning a bleary eye to the bed beside found it empty.

"Fuck, Cas!" Dean cried out, standing up. "Sam knows!"

Castiel groaned and pushed his face into the pillow.

"Cas! This is serious!"

"He texted last night, and I quote: 'I know. Getting another room. Ew.'," came the muffled reply.

Chuckling, Dean got back under the covers. Castiel grabbed his waist and pulled him close, nuzzling his head into Dean's chest. Dean smiled, putting his arms around Castiel and kissing his hair.

"Sleep, Dean," he said his voice raspier than usual.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean obliged.

* * *

The next Dean woke up was with a bad breath, sticky mouth and a note shoved in his hand.

"_Every head ever_

_Risen from a pillow,_

_Every fraction of_

_Skin to ever explode_

_From lonely sheets,_

_Knows just what it is_

_To ache, just what it_

_Is to suffer._

_May today, we not ache._

_May we not suffer._

_Today, may we live_

_Like children_

_And starve all our trifling worries."_

_Out on a run with Sam. We might have found a case. Tell you when I get back. _

_I love you. _

_-Cas_

Dean carefully pressed the paper and got it as plane as he could before going to his duffel. He took out a small box. It contained three black feathers and all the pieces of paper Castiel had ever left for him. He smiled as he stroked a single feather and shut the box to return it to its original place.

In all the years Dean had been alive, he had never known love like this. Comfortable and flowing. Every relationship Dean had been in was stagnant and ended up with Dean running away. Well, to be fair Dean had just been in two relationships. Cassie and a recurring relationship with Lisa. Cassie was the only one he had confessed his love to, but she had thought he just wanted to break up with her with "all the monster bullshit". Lisa had been a fling at first and then turned into a comfort, a promise for a year.

Dean sighed with the toothbrush in his mouth and his hair mussed up, looking into the mirror. He had promised Cassie he'd see her again. He hadn't thought about her since four years. He hadn't thought about Anna in three years. Castiel had replaced everyone, so swiftly and without pain. Sure there had been pain and hate, but Castiel… He healed and saved Dean in more ways than one. Dean owed him, a lot.

If Dean had thought that what he had felt for Cassie was love, what he felt for Castiel ran much deeper. He felt his spirits lift when Castiel smiled at him, _because_ of him. Granted there were no little beating hearts or little butterflies all around, but it was the closest Dean had had to falling in love.

Sometimes he wanted to ask Sam whether this is what it was like with Jess.

Well, gripping someone tight and raising them from Perdition did sound like a good first date.

Swatting away the thoughts and finally brushing his teeth, Dean went outside to find a panting and sweaty Castiel entering through the door. Dean pulled him close for a kiss and kissed him till he was panting himself.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been two hours since Dean and Sam had left Castiel at the assisted care facility with Fred Jones. Ode to Joy had begun again from the starting notes. Being an angel, Castiel had immense patience and capacity but the humans he had been with in the past few years had such an impact on him that he was bored of the same song. He got up, wishing to return to Dean, and started pacing. He wanted to be back.

Why had he ever picked to stay here? Why hadn't he left with them? Castiel was baffled because he couldn't come up with even one good reason for it. He had just known in that moment that he had to fall back, stay back. At first he had enjoyed it. The peace and the quiet song; the bustling and the pretty helpful ladies. It was nice and just what Castiel loved. It reminded him of Heaven on good days. When his family didn't have a reason to fight or someone to protect. Such days were rare but here they seemed normal, a routine.

Most of all, Castiel missed Dean. His scent, his smile. Why had he opted to leave Dean? He would never leave Dean. He loved Dean. He wished he could call Dean back and just fall into his arms. He missed the classic rock to this. He wished he could hear the brothers' bickering over something stupid. Anything… He wanted his Dean.

"Darlin', you need somethin'?" Jolene, Fred's attendant, asked.

"No," Castiel replied, distractedly.

"You seem sad, love… Anythin' botherin' you?"

"I miss my friend."

"Your friend seems important. Come, let's sit an' you can tell me all about 'im."

Once settled, Castiel sighed, sinking his head into his hands. Did he really want to talk about this with this stranger lady? He looked up to meet her kind brown eyes. He liked her. Her soul was bright, not as much as Dean's but a lot more than an average human. She was generous and helpful. Castiel wanted to tell her.

"We've been together since four years but we only recently engaged in carnal relations a few weeks ago when I got back from… Well, somewhere," he said, thinking Purgatory wouldn't go too well. "I love him… I love him so much. He's my life. He's been my life since I grabbed him and raised him from… His own personal Hell."

Jolene nodded, knowingly. Well, unknowingly…

He could hear her building the story in her head. Dean was addicted to drugs while Castiel was his friend, maybe even some kind of doctor or therapist.

"This time when I was stuck, he couldn't save me because I didn't wish to be saved… Now, I'm back and I let him go. I don't understand. I have this constant feeling that I'm betraying him but I don't understand how. I'm doing everything that is required of me and haven't repeated any of my past mistakes… I don't understand what is happening, I just wish I could stop it."

"Oh, honey," Jolene said, patting his cheek. "It's okay. You just needed the time apart from him to settle yourself after whatever traumatic experience you had. Don't begrudge yourself to that. Everybody needs some time off sometimes. I'm sure he loves you just as much and would take you right back whenever you wish to go. Until then, dear, relax and wait. You will figure it out. Love shall win."

Her eyes twinkled with promise and hope. Castiel returned her smile with a weak one of his own.

He looked at his lap and shoved his hands into his pocket. When his fingers brushed against a piece of paper, his heart beat with joy. He couldn't believe it. He rushed to pull the paper out.

"_How I truly think,_

_Though it may sound_

_Entirely crazy,_

_That you are an_

_Architect stolen_

_From heaven sent down_

_With grace to build_

_Something wonderful _

_Inside me."_

_I love you, Cas. Can't wait to hold you tonight, you assbutt. _

_-Dean_

Castiel realized that tears were flowing down his cheeks. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Silently, he handed the chit to Jolene.

She gasped quietly and pulled him by the shoulders to hug him. She kissed his cheek. Her own eyes were full of tears.

"Shh, hon," she said, giving him a watery smile. "Go home to him soon. He loves you."

Castiel took the paper back and nodded. He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, his mind playing his memories with Dean. Jolene left quietly.

"_You are so not doing that," Dean said, warningly, pushing Castiel's hands away. "No, Cas. No, no-Oh my God, hahahaha… Stop… Can't… Breathe… Hah."_

_Castiel was atop Dean, both naked and sated. Castiel had recently found that Dean's abdomen was ticklish and he wasn't the one to pass out on an opportunity and so he tickled Dean breathless. Dean's laughter was infectious and his arms strong as he turned them over and pinned Castiel under his weight. _

"_No, you don't." His eyes flashed with affection. _

_He grinned before he bent down to kiss Castiel. _

"_Dean," Castiel said, breathless, as Dean started to nip and suck at Castiel's throat and neck. _

_Like Dean was ticklish, Castiel fell apart when Dean did this. _

"_Aren't you just an adorable little thing!" Dean chuckled into his ear. _

"_Yeah, adorable enough to smite you singlehandedly."_

"_Oh, I'm offended."_

"_You should fear me, Dean Winchester."_

"_I love you, Castiel Assbutt."_

"_That is not even my name."_

"_Now it is."_

"_I hate it."_

"_I love it."_

"_I love _you_."_

"_I love you too."_


	5. Chapter 5

"_I just wanted to die and_

_In that same moment, to be reborn._

_I wanted my eyes to fall slowly_

_And my soul to bow gently,_

_And in your arms feel what it is_

_Like to suddenly leave this_

_Crumbling earth, and in the same _

_Delicate moment; taste my rebirth_

_Inside them."_

_I love you too. Miss you. _

_-Cas_

Dean crumpled the piece of paper, growling. He missed Castiel. Why didn't he stop him when he wanted to stay back with Fred? Oh, right. He didn't wish to be pushy. Now he wishes he had gotten over the moment of embarrassment and told Castiel that they were hauling his ass back with them and that was final. He still wishes he could go back and get him but he had a feeling now that Castiel wasn't there. Somehow he knew that Castiel was somewhere else and if he needed to contact Dean he would…

"Come back, Cas," he whispered to the empty room.

Sam had decided he would give Dean a little space for a couple of days by getting another room. Besides he didn't like moping Dean. Hell, Dean didn't like moping Dean.

Where _was_ Castiel?

"Cas, at least tell me you're safe. Come on, man," Dean murmured.

He quieted, straining his ears for the sound of ruffling feathers but none came. Huffing, he fell back on his bed.

Castiel loved him. If nothing else, the note was proof of that. Though Dean still wished he could get Castiel back, he still had to give him space. Gosh, even in his own mind he sounded like a chick.

It was still a huge mystery as to how Castiel had made it out. Dean still suspected that the angel dickheads had something to do with it. He understood why Castiel was unwilling to check, but now he believed Castiel might be out finding out the reason he was out. Seeing he didn't want to be out in the first place, it was very important to find out just why Castiel had been freed. Dean didn't think anyone did it because of all the good in the world. Good things didn't happen, especially not to good people. Good people are given good things to be screwed with.

Dean just hoped Castiel would be fine while finding the reason for his survival. He'd have liked to accompany Castiel though.

Maybe this was a journey just for one…

Dean remembered Castiel's words. Castiel was suicidal… Close to it, at least. Dean's heart sank.

"Oh you stupid son of a bitch," Dean whispered, getting up and walking out the door with the Impala keys.

Dean drove around for a bit, trying to calm himself. Castiel was an angel, an estranged angel sure, but an angel anyhow. He was a strong nerdy little dude with wings. He won't make stupid decisions. Not when he had made it to Purgatory and back. Yes, he had made mistakes but who hadn't.

He thought of all the angels Castiel had killed. Then he thought back to Samandriel. He had believed in Castiel. He had said that there were angels who still believed that Castiel had his heart in the right place. Of course he did. There was no one as loving as Castiel. There was no one as devoted as Castiel. No matter the way he picked, he had saved the world when he killed Raphael. If Raphael had taken over, the Apocalypse would have happened and nobody would have been able to stop it. Billions would have died, angels and humans alike. Surely Castiel's way had been better. Surely many angels recognized that…

Dean's blood ran cold when he thought of the stoned and orgy-crazy Castiel. That Castiel had lost everything that meant something to him, including Dean. Dean had died when his brother had said yes to the devil. He had died that day in Detroit and no amount of alcohol or no amount of devotion from Castiel could change that. Dean thought if Raphael had gotten into power that time… That's what would have happened. He was reminded of the lifeless eyes of Castiel and then himself… He remembered the devil residing in Sam… His little brother, Sammy.

Surely what Castiel had sacrificed had been worth it.

He was still saving the world. He was still helping Dean and Sam.

Dean let out a long sigh. It was night now. He drove off the road into a clearing. He stopped the car and got off to sit on the bonnet of the car. He leaned on the windshield and looked up to the stars.

It had been days but he was sure he could do it, now, without being embarrassed.

"Cas, I hope you're fine. I love you. You're a good guy, you know… Well, I hope you know that. I hope you remember that. Please come back soon."

A single ink black feather was lying beside Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean hated early morning jobs. Like the next average Joe, Dean loved his late mornings and his job had provision for them. Most days were good when their latest monster decided it needed to wreak havoc in the night. But sometimes, the freaking sons of bitches loved the daylight. It bugged Dean to no end.

Grumbling, he woke up as Sam worked around him. Sam being the natural rebellious motherfucker, was an early riser and took green tea and went on a walk. Son of a bitch, he thought as he kicked the sheets off.

"Fuck you," he greeted Sam, as he headed to the bathroom.

As the warm water, which Sam had thankfully spared, hit Dean's back, he moaned with pleasure. He had cuddled against the angel of the Lord last night after having hot sex. The angel of the Lord was rough and quick, just like the shark dips and slopes of his body and unlike his smooth, baby soft skin. Dean loved to leave his bruises on it and Castiel let them stay.

The angel of the Lord was even earlier riser than Sam and left before Sam could figure out what they had been up to.

Tying a towel around his waist, Dean came out to the fragrance of coffee and donuts.

"Did I ever tell you, I fucking love you?" he asked Sam, as he fell into a chair to eat his donuts.

Sam snorted and shook his head. "At least wear some clothes, Dean," he said, without looking up from the newspaper.

Dean finished each donut in two bites and rose to get dressed.

* * *

With the job well done and the Wendigo smote, Dean heaved a sigh and dipped his hand into the pocket looking for the keys to the Impala. His hand brushed against a piece of paper. Curious, he pulled it out. It was blank.

He turned it around.

His breath hitched.

"What's that?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Nothing," Dean said, quickly hiding the paper and fishing out his keys.

He drove above the speed limit to reach the motel and Sam just stared.

Shutting the door of the bathroom on Sam's concerned face, Dean took out the paper again.

_I can't wait to kiss you._

Dean stared as his reflection.

"Neither can I," he said with a soft smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Please refrain from killing me. Thank you.**

* * *

When Castiel reached back Heaven with the burden of his fledgling brother, Samandriel, he found note in his pocket. The feeling was so familiar that it made his heart burst with joy and sorrow. Why must life be so hard?

"_How much more better and_

_Richer life became_

_The moment you were born_

_Inside me._

_How much more bearing, my_

_God, how much more_

_Beautiful,_

_Is life becoming now, _

_That the terrible weight_

_Of feeling completely_

_Alone_

_Is slowly eroding_

_From my tired_

_Shoulders."_

_I hope you stay. Love you. _

_-Dean_

Humans call it thunder and the growl of the clouds but it was just a little angel crying.


	8. Chapter 8

"It's memory foam, sir. It'll remember you," the salesman said, excitedly. "It's really comfortable and even therapeutic. We've never had complaints for these. Secret between you and I, we get complaints about all these after a year or two."

Dean could detect liars. He was good at it. He prided at his ability to.

He smiled at the salesman as though he believed him but the offer of an amazing warm mattress which would take his shape, was enticing. Sam wouldn't be happy about the purchase but what the Hell. Dean had never had his own room and he was willing to spend.

He settled down on the mattress, tuning the salesman out and just feeling the mattress. He laid back down. A woman on the opposite side of the mattress gave him a flirty smile. He gave her a small smile, trying to say that he was already taken. She seemed to get the point and walked away quickly. Dean's heart sank a little. Cas…

Memory foam, though. The mattress was so damn comfortable. Dean was sinking right into it, enveloped in the warm. He sighed. The salesman was still talking animatedly.

Dean got up and looked at the mattress. It had a him-sized depression in it. He thought about it… Angels could make an invisibility act, right? So… Yes! This was it. This was the mattress that he'd buy for himself. He could get Sam a spring mattress, the nicer ones, unlike the ones in the motel.

At the end of his shopping spree, Dean had two mattresses, three chairs, two table lamps, food, and a flower vase just for kicks. He grinned at the men carrying his purchased items and dumping them in the Impala.

"Hey! Careful with the door, man. My Baby's precious," he said, reproachfully, swatting the man away.

Finally settled in the car, Dean cranked up the radio to the highest volume and rode back to the bat-cave singing along to 'You Shook Me All Night Long'.

"Sammy, did you know that there are about four thousand varieties of potatoes?" he asked, putting the purchase on the ground.

"Wow, you really went all out didn't you?"

"Shut up, Sam. I'm nesting. This is cool."

"Sure… Cool…"

Dean rolled his eyes and picked up the memory foam mattress off the floor. The chairs were going to be delivered in the evening at some random house where Josh Brandon didn't live. In short, Dean was going to get it from a random house.

He went to his room. He still couldn't believe it. From sleeping with his mom and dad to rooms in random people's houses to motels and finally Dean had a room of his own. Sure, Dean was pretty confident that eventually they'd lose this house too because that was the definition of being a Winchester. Pushing the pessimistic thoughts to the back of his mind, he heaved off the sad mattress like thing off the bed and replaced it with the new mattress.

He looked around the room. Last night he put in nails to decorate the wall with his favorite weapons. He had to agree, it looked amazing. He had a table against one wall with the typewriter he had found downstairs and he was intending to put one of the table lamps on it. One side of the wall he left empty for… Well, for Cas. It was hard to admit because it made him feel bad and like a chick. He had place for a couple of chairs in the room too because apparently Castiel liked to watch over him as he slept. Crap, he was Bella. He hated Twilight.

"Unholy little piece of shit," he murmured under his breath, bashing the book in his mind.

It made him smile remembering the time after watching Looney Toons that Castiel had insisted on watching Twilight and Dean had given him a long rant about how no family member of Dean's was going to watch Twilight. Castiel had stood up, looking stormy and just when Dean had thought he'd finally be smote for saying something against Twilight; Castiel had kissed him desperately and asked whether Dean really considered Castiel part of his family. Dean had grinned and said 'yes' in every language he knew, which was one but he knew accents.

He stood in front of the table, now back to the present. He stared at the empty sheet of paper sticking out of the typewriter. He typed out the date on the page and then waited a second. There was only one thought he had in mind. Sighing, he typed:

_**Missing Cas :(**_

He slammed his hand on the desk once before walking out the room.

* * *

That night when he woke up in the middle of a nightmare, sweaty and gasping, there was a depression in the mattress beside him and a note lying at the center of it.

_Dean,_

_I promise I'll leave you more notes… Can't wait to be in your arms again. _

_-Cas_

That night Dean sat in a chair reading and re-reading the note over and over till the words blurred but he could still see them when he closed his eyes.

"Cas."


	9. Chapter 9

Every night Dean would wake up with a depression beside him but rarely there were notes lying beside him. If not a note, there definitely was a feather lying there. Dean carefully saved every feather and every note in the same little box. Soon, he thought, he'd require another box. Smiling peacefully at the thought, he stared wistfully at the latest note.

"_Crawl your trembling_

_Skin into my arms and _

_Feel your fears leave_

_You like sleep._

_Hold your ears to_

_My chest and I will_

_Marry your frightened_

_Breath; let the rhythm _

_Of my heart march you_

_Gently into your _

_Dreams."_

_I promise I'll see you soon._

_-Cas_

It was affirmation to the fact that Castiel did indeed look over Dean every night. He did chase away Dean's nightmares, even if he was there for only a couple of minutes, he did spend time with Dean. Dean wished Castiel would wake him up… Something was up with Castiel and he was really scared to find out. It was a relief that Castiel was alive, still kickin'. So that's what Dean will live with as long as Castiel knew who he had to return to.

He knew he could leave Castiel a note in the room and he would read it but Dean he had so much to say. How could he put it all on a scrap of paper… Even the poems seemed redundant now. Flimsy. Not from Castiel though. They sounded amazing from him. They were bittersweet and just what he would expect to hear from Castiel. But Dean could never find the perfect poem.

He sighed and sat down on the bed, huffing. He replaced the chit into the box and shutting it, put it on the side table. He looked up at the lamp on the table to his mother's picture.

"Mom, I love him," he whispered softly.

He had thought about what his parents would say if they found out that he was gay. Or well, angel-sexual at least. Castiel's vessel was male and Dean wouldn't change it for the world. He loved Castiel all around, the vessel and all.

He knew his mother would accept him with open arms. He didn't know how but she was so beautiful, so amazing he couldn't imagine her hating anyone for something as trivial as their sexuality. She would love and hate on the basis of personality. Besides he was sure Castiel and Mary would hit it off. They'd talk about Dean and food and books and stuff like that. 'Angels would look after you'. He was sure Mary hadn't meant this kind of 'looking after', he thought, snorting.

John, well, before Mary died, he'd have taken a couple of days to get over it but eventually, with the help of Mary, John would accept Dean and Castiel. He'd not be entirely comfortable but he'd accept them all the same. But after Mary had died, Dean wasn't sure John would even care. Not that he loved his sons any less, he was just preoccupied. He'd tell Dean not to get involved in relationships. They had more important things to do. Saving people, hunting things, family business…

Dean got up and walked over to Mary's picture. She was beautiful. As he was putting it down, he glanced at the typewriter. The sheet he had put in was missing and instead a new sheet had been inserted. He looked everywhere for it. Every nook and corner, even the bin. The sheet was nowhere to be found.

The sheet had contained dates and one-line or two-line entries of how much Dean missed Castiel. So Dean had passed on something to Castiel, he thought. Sighing, he slapped the typewriter.

Putting on the date, he wrote:

_**I know who stole my paper…**_

_**Be back soon, Cas. I miss you.**_

_**I hope you're okay. Tell me you're okay, Cas.**_

_**P.S.: Thanks.**_


	10. Chapter 10

"_I have not fallen_

_In love with a body,_

_But merely a soul,_

_And that, has made_

_All the difference."_

_I'm fine, Dean. I miss you too._

_-Cas_

_**I found a fucked up relationship today. Like ours. But they are still together, Cas. A witch and his familiar. They're happy. **_


	11. Chapter 11

Under the ink black feather, lay a pamphlet containing knowledge about a new institute for learning French that had opened in Detroit.

"Dean?" Sam asked, turning around from the motel door.

"Coming, Sam," Dean said, pocketing both things and following Sam and The-Man-Who-Couldn't-Stop-Dying.

* * *

With Prometheus cremated, Dean and Sam returned to the bat-cave. Making a lame excuse, Dean retired to his room, shutting the door before Sam could object.

"_The feeling is in _

_My bones, there need_

_Not be, anyone tell me._

_I know that this life will crumble_

_And I know that I will be afraid and _

_I know that I will feel far more pain_

_Than this body would dare to hold._

_I know this all and in me, it is well:_

_I can only ask that along the way_

_You fall in love with my pieces."_

_Dean._

_-Cas_

The pamphlet was crumpled, the writing was awry and the words rushed. Dean feared the worst. A single tear rolled down his face.

"Cas," he whispered, brokenly.

"Dean," came the reply from behind him.

Dean turned around in time to catch the staggering angel. He pulled him onto his lap as he sat down on the bed. Castiel looked worn out, completely. His eyes surrounded by black circles and baggy looking. His cheeks looked sunken and his pallor was yellow-ish.

Dean pulled up Castiel's face and kissed him. He didn't ask Castiel where he had been. He didn't ask anything. Everything was on Castiel's face.

"Who do I need to kill?" Dean asked, gruffly.

Castiel chuckled, weakly.

"Cas?"

"Dean, I don't know what's happening… Please… Please don't ask. You know I'd never lie… I just don't know."

Castiel looked so scared, so desperate. Dean wanted to cry; instead he kissed Castiel gruffly and held him close.

"Dean," Castiel breathed against Dean's lips, looking small in his arms.

Instead of questions that night, Dean and Castiel spent it conversing in need and desperation. Confessing their love, they laid their heads to rest, holding each other as if it was their last night on earth.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you everyone for reading. This is the last update of the story(most probably). :Dbr /**  
**Thank you for the reviews and the kudos. I really loved writing /**  
**Thank you to peevesstolemysweettroll from tumblr. She gave me the /**  
**Thank you for Christopher Poindexter for the amazing /**  
**I hope you like this update.**  
**Also I wrote it before 8x17.**


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